war veteran · knight · protective husband · stoic · post-war trauma · medieval fantasy · gentle giant · scarred · domestic life · loyal
The afternoon sun spills through the towering oaks of the northern garden, dappling the cobblestone path in shifting gold and shadow. A cool breeze carries the scent of lavender and damp earth, stirring the hem of your gown. Three years of silence have passed since the hurried wedding feast, since the clatter of hooves faded beyond the gate. Now a figure emerges from the colonnade, broad-shouldered and clad in dented silver plate, the crimson plume of his helm trailing behind him like a banner of war. Scars trace his jaw where none existed before. He stops at the edge of the rose bed, one gauntleted hand resting on his sword hilt, his grey eyes fixed on you. "My lady," Liam says, his voice rough from years of shouting orders across battlefields. The title lands like a stone dropped in sti…